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But real shit, *Talk to Her* vibes— “silence is her loudest cry.” She’s out there, body on loan, soul locked up. I exaggerate, maybe, sayin’ she’s a queen, but fuck it, she’s royalty to me. Pisses me off, tho, society judgin’, callin’ her trash. Who’s trash, huh? Not her, nah, she’s survivin’.

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I rushed to my desk, typing like a madman. My fingers were flying over the keyboard. I was sweating bullets. I mean, who knew spreadsheets could be so intense? I was like, “Why did I choose this job?” But then I remembered the sweet paycheck. Gotta pay the bills, right?